


Who Killed the World

by mnwood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Inspired by Mad Max Series (Movies), M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle, Miscarriage, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:23:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6633226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnwood/pseuds/mnwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mostly just the plot of Mad Max: Fury Road, but with the characters from Supernatural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Killed the World

**Author's Note:**

> REASONS WHY THIS HAS A MATURE RATING DESPITE NOT HAVING ANY SEX SCENES: canon-typical violence for Mad Max canon, which is slightly more violent than Supernatural; (non-graphic) mentions of rape without any depictions of rape, like in Mad Max; mentions of underage (17) rape; mentions of forced miscarriages; a character loses a baby at one point
> 
> If you haven't seen Mad Max, please don't read this. I would really hate for your first experience of Mad Max: Fury Road to be this dumb fic.
> 
> Also, my apologies to fans of Lucifer. He is more of a straw man villain in this than he is on Supernatural.

Even after all this time, the sound of the tattoo gun grates on Castiel’s nerves. He used to do it himself when he first arrived, but now the task falls to one of the healthier war boys. He didn’t teach them how to do it. One day he just handed the gun off to a kid with steady hands and said, “Finish this,” and walked away.

_“Hold him down! Restrain him! For fuck’s sake, muzzle him!”_

Castiel turns toward the yelling and sees a pile of war boys fighting something underneath them. Suddenly a man, a full life, emerges and shoves past them all. There is already a muzzle on his face, and his hands are bound by rope.

As he sprints past Castiel, they make eye contact for the briefest of moments. The man’s eyes are wide and wild, bright green when the sunlight peeking through the cracks hits them. Castiel steps out of his way as he passes.

The war boys appear a moment later, hollering as they chase the man down. Castiel will never understand why they are so loud. He doesn’t see the point of incessant shouting.

The cavern swallows the sound as the chase gets farther away. Castiel looks over at the doctor who had been tending to the muzzled full life. 

She’s pressing a rag to her face, and Castiel can’t tell if it’s making her cleaner or dirtier.

“You could’ve stopped him,” Meg says with a note of irritation in her tone. 

Castiel doesn’t respond.

“Oh right, I forgot. You don’t get your hands dirty anymore.”

“My hands haven’t been clean in 5,000 days.”

“I didn’t mean _literally,_ Doc.” She throws the rag down and walks away, presumably to check on blood bags that _haven’t_ run off.

Meg and Castiel are the only two doctors left in the Citadel. Sometimes Castiel wonders if they’re the only two doctors left in the world, but then he thinks that’s either a bleak outlook or a narcissistic one. He likes Meg, mostly because she minds her own business and doesn’t bother him. Much.

The sound of wet footsteps and labored breathing carries down the cavern, and before Castiel can even wonder who it is the muzzled man runs past him again.

This time, Castiel stops him. There is a broken chain around his left ankle, so Castiel simply steps on the chain and holds it steady as the man falls facedown into the dirt. He quickly flips over onto his back and holds his hands out as if expecting Castiel to strike him.

Interesting.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Castiel says gently.

The man’s eyes change from fear to shock. He writhes on the ground to try to escape. 

Castiel bends down and whispers, “Left, left, second right, down the stairs, third left. That’s your path away from the war boys.”

The man stares at him in confusion. 

“Do you need me to repeat it?” 

He just barely shakes his head. 

A smile curls Castiel's lips as he takes his foot off the chain.

The man runs.

 

* * *

 

As Dean rounds the corner to find a room full of people hanging upside down, he begins to wonder what possessed him to trust that doctor. 

The other doctor, the woman, spots him from across the room and smiles with all of her teeth. She walks over to him with a swing in her hips, and she patronizingly grabs the front of his muzzle and shakes it when she gets to him.

“Aw, aren’t you a cutie?” she says in a baby voice. “You made your way here without my help.”

Dean scans the room and tries to figure out where to run, but it’s too late. Hands are on him in a second, and somebody pokes his side with something that paralyzes his legs. They poke him a second and a third time. He passes out from the pain.

It’s darker when he wakes up. He’s not sure how that’s possible in the bottom of a cave, but it’s definitely darker. It takes him a second to realize that he’s in some sort of hanging cage. Thankfully, he's not hanging upside down. 

There is very little movement in the cave, and most of the pale boys down below seem to be either asleep or dead. 

“You found your way. Good.”

Dean jumps at the sound of the voice, and one of the spikes at the top of the cage nicks his scalp. He reaches his chained hands up and finds a spot of blood. When he looks down, he can just barely make out the male doctor standing a few meters below him. The guy is staring up at him, but the only part of his face Dean can make out is the gleam of his lip ring. Both doctors have piercings on their faces, black tattoos on their hands, and thick chains hanging from their canvas jackets and pants, but Dean isn't about to ask what it all means. 

“I’m sorry to send you down here under the guise of escaping, but, uh, I thought it was an important lesson in false hope. There is no escape.”

The man’s voice is deep and low and lifeless, which makes Dean strain to hear him. Why he even cares what the doctor has to say, he’s not sure.

When Dean doesn’t say anything, the doctor continues, “Besides, even if there _was_ a way out I couldn’t let you escape. You’re a full life and a universal donor. You will be very useful to our sick war boys. I hope you understand your value here. We are incredibly grateful for your service.”

Dean grunts and spits between the bars of his cage. He doesn’t spit toward the doctor though. 

“I wouldn’t have muzzled you. If you had fought on my table, I wouldn’t have muzzled you. They think you’re feral, but I believe you’re just scared. I take the muzzles off myself when I’m proven right. No other person in the Citadel has ever taken a muzzle off.”

 _In other words, 'Get on my good side, because I could be the only friend you have here_ , _’_ Dean thinks. He knows what the guy’s doing. 

“What’s your name?”

Dean doesn’t respond. 

“Do you have a name?”

Nothing.

“I’m Castiel.” 

Several minutes pass in silence, and so Dean shifts forward to try to see the doctor.

He’s gone.

 

* * *

 

The umbilical cord is only in Castiel’s hand for a moment before Immortan Luc snatches it up and eats it. He hums in delight and licks his fingers. 

Castiel cleans the child and declares that it’s a healthy boy. He smiles softly at Donna as he places the boy in her arms. 

“Thank you, Castiel,” the Immortan says in a bored tone. “Now leave us.”

Castiel nods solemnly to Donna and heads for the door so he can check on the other women in the gardens with Miss Missouri. Castiel always feels sick to his stomach when he leaves any of them alone with Lucifer. Hopefully the newborn baby will ignite a softness in him, if only temporarily.

As Castiel shuts the giant safe door behind him, he realizes the other women are _not_ in the gardens. Charlie, Jo and Eileen are all huddled together in the greenhouse, and when they spot Cas they run up to him eagerly.

“How is she? How’s the baby? Did he eat the umbilical cord? Is the baby a full life? What’s its name? Are we going to meet it?”

Their voices run over each other for several seconds. Castiel frowns at them until they shut up.

“Where is Miss Missouri?” he asks sternly. “How did you three escape?”

“We’re not _her_ prisoner,” Charlie responds with a punch to Castiel’s arm. “Now answer our questions, Cas.”

With a sigh, Castiel says, “Donna and the baby are fine. The Immortan dismissed me, so I imagine he’s naming the child now. It’s a boy.”

The three women’s faces fall, but it’s Jo who speaks. “What do you think he’d do if I went in there?”

“You don’t know the combination to the door.”

 _“You_ do,” Jo challenges.

“Yes, but I also value my life. No matter how depressing it is. Shall I escort you back to the gardens?" 

“No, we know our way,” Jo responds bitterly. She hooks her arm through Charlie’s, their hips knocking together as they scurry off.

Eileen stays by their side but at a more reasonable distance away. Charlie and Jo don’t exactly hide that they’re more interested in one another than Immortan Luc, but somehow Lucifer’s self-importance prevents him from noticing. Castiel thinks the man is a fool. He has a flock of full life women who live together in a prison of luxury, and he only ever visits them in order to rape them. And somehow, he thinks they actually love him. The women could be planning a full-scale rebellion, and the Immortan would have no clue. Or perhaps he doesn’t care. He hardly sees women as people; much less as a threat. 

Since he’s already out of the caverns, Castiel decides to visit the milking mothers. He’s allowed to use the lift that the war boys operate, but he prefers the grueling task of climbing hundreds of dirt stairs. He counts himself lucky to be healthy enough to do it, and so he does it. 

Just as he gets to the top of the stairs, an alarm sounds. People start bustling around him, and the half lifes down below appear out of the sand.

Castiel moves over to the side and presses himself up against the wall to prepare for what’s coming. Sure enough, Immortan Luc and his lackeys appear less than 60 seconds later, the Immortan furiously marching up to his microphone.  

“I need all of my war boys to prepare for battle.”

It’s all he says. He throws the microphone to the side and stalks back to the lift, where his car is waiting for him. For a brief moment Castiel is grateful. If Immortan Luc is occupied in battle, Donna will have a few days of peace with her son.

Before Castiel can strike up a conversation with the milking mothers, he hears light footsteps on the stairs and lots of giggling and laughing. He runs over to the staircase just in time to see Charlie, Jo, Eileen, Bela, Billie and Anna disappear around the bend.

He chases after the women and calls, “Hey! Where are you going?” 

Billie’s the only one who turns around, and she answers in a bored tone, “To join the war party, of course.”

“Excuse me?” Cas responds as he trips over a stair and grabs the wall to hold himself up.

“War rig’s been hijacked, Doctor,” Bela says with a triumphant edge to her voice. “Someone’s kidnapped the Imperator.”

“What? Imperator _Mills?”_

“I know! Can you believe it?” Charlie exclaims. “There’s no way he’ll get away with it.”

“Imperator Mills is gonna rip him to shreds,” Jo concludes.

 _If she hasn’t already,_ Castiel thinks. “Where is Miss Missouri?” he asks sternly.

“She left to tend to the baby a few minutes ago,” Anna answers calmly. “Castiel, can you stop by our prison and tell Donna and Miss Missouri that we’re leaving?”

The other women clamor that Miss Missouri can’t know that they’re leaving or else she’ll try to stop them. They all shout over each other until Billie silences them with a strict _“enough.”_

“What makes you think _I’m_ going to allow you to—”

The women’s laughter cuts Castiel off. They’re right, of course. He’s not going to lift a finger to stop them. If they’d rather risk death than another moment with Immortan Luc, then so be it. Castiel understands.

At the next landing, a war boy grabs Castiel by the arm and exclaims, “Good! We’ve been looking for you! We need help hooking up the blood bags!” 

Castiel wonders what he’s talking about, but he decides not to ask. He’s several ranks higher than war boys; he doesn’t ask them questions.

When they arrive in the infirmary, all of the sick war boys appear to have new life running through their veins. They’re eager to fight despite the fact that they can hardly stand.

Now Castiel understands. They want to take the blood bags with them on the journey. What a stupid, ridiculous idea.

“Lancers, help chain your drivers to their blood bags,” Castiel calmly commands as he heads over to the lever to release the blood bags from the ceiling. 

It isn’t until they start to lower that Castiel realizes the feral one is no longer in his cage. As soon as he hits the ground, he tries to run. The war boys laugh at the futility of his effort—he’s already chained to Kevin. Kevin’s lancer, Ash, picks him up off the floor and pats his back.

“Sorry, blood bag. You’re coming with us,” he says, a note of real sympathy in his voice. 

The feral man growls and snaps at him, proving how right they were to put a muzzle on him. Kevin looks scared, but that’s a pretty common feature of his personality so Castiel doesn’t think much of it.

As Kevin, Ash and the blood bag pass by Castiel on their way out to join the war party, the blood bag locks eyes on Cas and turns his head to keep looking at him after they’ve passed. Castiel tilts his head and squints at him curiously.

“What are you doing just standing there, Doc? Let’s hook some blood bags up to some lancer posts,” Meg says in excitement as she passes by Cas. She shouts over her shoulder, “Oh, and you’re in the car with the Immortan! He requested you specifically!”

Castiel wonders why the Immortan needs him, but he’s not about to argue with orders. He follows Meg out into the sunlight and is assaulted by the fumes of a dozen gas-guzzling muscle cars. On instinct, the first blood bag he tends to is the feral one.

“Make sure you restrain him,” Kevin says softly as Castiel runs the chain through the driver’s side door.

Castiel places his hands on the edge of the open window and gives Kevin a sad look. “You’re not required to go.”

“No, I want to go.” He speaks with conviction, as if he’s trying to convince himself more than Cas.

Cas pats Kevin’s shoulder in solidarity before walking to the front of the car. Ash is struggling with the blood bag, and Castiel has to step in and hold the man back by his arms.

The blood bag looks at him in confusion. Castiel gives him the faintest of smiles. The man probably isn’t used to meeting another full life stronger than he is, so Castiel is sure to tie his hands extra tight just so the blood bag knows who’s in charge. The man growls, but Castiel is already moving on to the next lancer post. 

As he straps in the next blood bag, a flash of bright white catches Castiel’s eye. He looks toward Kevin’s car just long enough to see Anna crouching down behind the trunk. They make eye contact, and she puts her finger over her lips and mouths, _“Shhh.”_

 

* * *

 

The ropes binding Dean’s hands don’t necessarily hurt, but they’re itchy as fuck—which is worse. Dean would rather be in pain. He tries to lean forward away from the post at his back, but the doctor did too good of a job binding him. He scans the cars and people around him and realizes there’s no way he’s getting out of this one.

 _At least my war boys aren’t fucking crazy,_ he thinks to himself as the lancer, Ash, checks the engine. The other pale, sickly things are hooting and hollering and some of them are actually drinking guzzolene. In comparison, the war boys he’s been paired with are as good as sane.

Of course, Dean’s in no position to judge sanity. He’s not entirely sure his current situation isn’t just some big hallucination.

Suddenly, the sound of drums fills the desert. Everyone revs their engines, and the war boys’ voices grow impossibly louder. A big, disgustingly ugly car takes off, and everyone else follows. Dean pitches forward when his car starts to move. Good thing the doctor strapped him in so tight. Sand flies in his face as they move, but he tries to keep his eyes open anyway. 

The desert is endless, but Dean can only see a few paces in front of him. He has no idea where the war party is heading and even less of an idea of what they plan on fighting. Wars these days were mostly fought over territory, so Dean had spent the last 9,000 days of his life trying to stay out of everyone’s way.

(He had failed, of course. The world may have been dying, but it wasn’t dead yet. He would fight tooth and nail if it meant one life would be saved.)

Eventually they enter enemy territory, and the fighting commences. Surprisingly, Ash is a ruthless killer. He hurls fiery lances at people’s hearts with perfect precision. Kevin doesn’t bother swerving out of the way of the dead bodies in the sand.

Dean chances a look back at his driver and finds a devilish grin on his face. So the kid _does_ like war. Huh.

Just as he’s turning back around, Dean lurches forward and feels his feet dig into the sand. The car jerks in the unmistakable sign of popping a tire, and Ash and Kevin start yelling at each other. An enemy motorcyclist races past them. This time, Kevin does swerve out of the way. 

In an instant, Ash untangles Dean from his binds and throws him over the hood of the car. Dean lands with a crash on top of the trunk and scrabbles for purchase. When he finds none, he swings himself over to a foothold on the side of the car and pulls at the lid of the trunk to try to get inside. Another motorcyclist drives by, their body in flames, and Dean supposes that Ash has resumed fighting and won’t notice if he gets in the trunk.

When he finally gets it open, he’s faced with a weird hallucination. A skinny girl with bright red hair stares up at him with fear in her eyes. He shakes his head to make her disappear but it doesn’t work. He stares at her. She sinks farther into the corner of the trunk and covers her eyes. 

The car pitches forward and halts, and Dean flops headfirst into the trunk. He tries his best not to hurt the girl as he flips over right side up and scoots away from her. She doesn’t cry when his boot accidentally presses hard against her leg, and she continues to stare at Dean as if he’s a ghost. The trunk might be spacious, but they are still tangled together and their faces are centimeters from one another.

“They can’t take away your freedom,” she whispers in a voice too soft for the world they live in. 

Dean frowns at her.

There is shouting all around them, yet somehow Dean hears, _“There’s a breeder in Kevin’s car!”_ from somewhere behind them. 

An engine revs. Sand flies in Dean and the girl’s faces. The girl starts to choke, so Dean turns toward her and gathers her in his arms to shield her from whatever else might be coming.

Something lodges itself right above Dean’s elbow, but the distant stab of pain is not bad enough to check what happened.

He whispers, “It’s OK, sweetheart,” in the girl’s ear, but his mouth feels like it’s full of sand and he’s not sure if he actually said it or if he just grunted nonsense to her.

In any case, she folds in on herself and presses her fists to Dean’s chest. At first he thinks she’s pushing him away, but then she curls her fingers around his shirt and pulls him closer.

That’s when someone’s hands clasp onto Dean’s shoulders and yank him back. He begrudgingly lets go of the girl as he flies backward, but he only gets a few paces away from the car before the snap of the chain attaching him to Kevin reels him back.

The hands lose their grip on him, and Dean slams against the side of Kevin’s car before falling to the ground. The chain rattles against the door as Dean's body is dragged helplessly through the sand, but then the car slows to a crawl and allows Dean a moment to breathe. Something sputters and dies. Dean feels a wave of heat against his side as he finally comes to a stop. 

He passes out.

 

* * *

 

The Immortan needed Castiel in his car because Donna and her child are in the backseat. 

A dormant sadness low in his belly awakened when he climbed into the car to find mother and child both looking resigned to their fate.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Donna had said. “You had to know he wouldn’t leave me.”

Castiel had nothing to say to that, so he didn’t say anything.

The Immortan prefers to be at the front of the fight without actually doing any fighting himself, so they stay several meters behind the war rig and watch as the war boys are picked off in a fiery blaze. Their car is too quiet save for the sound of the baby's cries. 

“What’s so important that Lucifer feels it necessary to send all of his men after this war rig?” Castiel asks in a low voice for fear of the Immortan overhearing him. 

“They don’t know who it is that took it,” Donna explains.

Cas gives her a confused look. 

She smiles and rolls her eyes at him. She smiles more often than anyone he’s ever met. “If it’s an enemy strong enough to overtake the Imperator, then it’s a threat not only to the Citadel—” 

“But to Gas Town and the Bullet Farm as well,” Cas finishes.

“Bingo,” Donna says. 

Cas doesn’t know what “bingo” means, but Donna says it a lot. 

Over the horizon, Cas spots the Bullet Farm several kilometers away. His heart pounds in his chest at the thought that the Immortan might be right. Whoever stole the war rig might be trying to tear down his desert empire. And then what will happen to the rest of them?

He doesn’t have time to ponder the question. Someone attacks their car from the back, and suddenly there is no roof over Castiel and Donna’s heads. Castiel acts fast, wrapping his arms around Donna and the child and shielding their faces from the attack. Immortan Luc angrily shouts something, but he sounds far away. As if they aren’t in the same car anymore.

Castiel tentatively raises his head and finds that they _aren’t_ in the same car anymore. They have been split down the middle, and somehow Castiel and Donna’s half is still dragging through the sand. He looks around furiously and manages to spot a stopped car in the distance. There is smoke billowing out of it, and no one is in the driver’s seat.

In a moment of insanity, Castiel grabs Donna’s baby and shields him beneath his heavy canvas jacket. He hops out of the Immortan’s wrecked car and commands Donna to follow him as he races through the wreckage. 

It isn’t until he’s sitting in the driver’s seat with Donna next to him that he realizes it’s Kevin’s car.

He doesn’t have the emotional capacity to wonder what’s happened to Kevin and his lancer.

He drives.

 

* * *

 

Dean wakes up under the sand and has to tell himself to breathe. It takes him a moment to accept that he’s alive and alone in the middle of the desert.

Not totally alone. Kevin is unconscious about five paces away from him, and they are still connected by chain. He’s no longer donating his blood, but that is just one small victory.

Pain shoots through his arm, so he dazedly turns his elbow up to check it. It’s an arrow, the end of it just a broken stick, and he yanks it out of his triceps in one quick motion. He loses a lot of blood before he can get a piece of cloth wrapped around it.

 _I have to get back to that girl,_ is his first coherent thought. 

There is nothing nearby that can break the chain between Dean and Kevin, so he throws the kid over his shoulders and begins to walk. His vision is blurred, but he picks up on the trail by examining the wreckage around him. At some point he heard someone mention the term “Bullet Farm,” and so he assumes if he keeps walking he might run into that. And maybe they have water he can drink.

And maybe that’s where the girl is.

 

* * *

 

Kevin’s car is in dire need of repair, yet somehow it makes it all the way to the Bullet Farm. Cas has only been to the Bullet Farm twice in his life, and both times he had a sinking feeling deep in his heart the entire time he was there. 

It’s more of a city than the Citadel, with people bustling around and constantly working. It’s set up like a giant outdoor factory where everyone has a job to perform. They are so focused on their tasks that they hardly notice outsiders. With the busyness and fast pace of it all, the town is eerie in a way that few places in the desert are. 

“What now?” Donna asks as they weave through the crowd. She holds her baby inside of the outer wrap of her linens, close against her chest. 

“We find the war rig.”

“How do you know it’s here?” 

Cas points to a few different spots where war boys on foot are running toward a central location. They move stealthily as if afraid that the bullet farmers will stop them. 

“What happens when we find it?” Donna asks skeptically.

“I don’t know.”

“Did you say war rig?” an old woman asks from their right.

Cas instinctively spins around in response to the potential threat. “Um, yes. You know about it?”

She closes her eyes and bows her head. “Where the young ones live.”

“Excuse me?”

“Far, far away. Away from the farm. That’s where you’ll find it.” She slowly lifts her hand and points her finger through the middle of the commotion.

Castiel thanks her before they head off in that direction. 

“What does she mean ‘the young ones’?”

“I don’t know,” Cas lies. He’s heard of them before, but he hoped that it was a myth created to scare the bullet farmers into submission.

If the rumors are true, then the Bullet Farmer, a man who calls himself Metatron, could be worse than the Immortan.

 

 

* * *

 

Dean follows the sound of an idle engine, and it is a welcome sight when a shotgun points in his face. 

“Water,” he tries to say as he drops Kevin to the ground.

“Who are you?” The woman is tall, her hair shaved and her forehead black with grease, a metal contraption for a left arm. 

_“Dean?”_

Dean opens his eyes wide and frantically looks around. He knows that voice, but it can’t possibly be—

“Dean. Fuck. _Dean.”_

Strong arms wrap around him. Dean instinctively melts into the touch.

“Sam.”

 

* * *

 

Donna spots the war rig before Cas and takes off at a sprint toward it. He tries to yell at her that it could be dangerous, but he knows it would be fruitless.

He approaches the rig cautiously, even as Donna runs around the other side of it and disappears out of his view. He doesn’t know what to expect, but there is nothing but desert on all sides which means the war boys can’t be far behind. Of course, they wouldn’t think to simply _ask_ someone where the war rig is. 

When Castiel is just a few paces away, the war rig suddenly comes to life and begins to roll forward. In a panic, Cas races toward it and climbs a ladder on the side. He sits on the barrel and tries to stay steady as it gains speed. He looks back at the spot where it had been parked and finds nothing there but sand. So that must mean that Donna and her baby are safely on board.

Hopefully.

Castiel can’t decide if he should make his presence known to whoever might be inside the war rig, but he doesn’t have long to consider it before the distant sound of an electric guitar fills his ears. He reluctantly turns his head and just barely spots the Citadel’s war party behind them. When he turns back toward the front, a group of the Bullet Farmer’s men are heading toward them.

Two war parties ready to converge on the war rig, and Castiel is stuck on top of it with no weapon.

The shooting happens first. The bullet farmers are ruthlessly wasteful as they begin firing their guns long before they will be able to reach the rig. Even so, Castiel can see the bullets hitting the sand ahead of them, and he scrambles to get out of the way.

As he’s searching for a latch to get inside the rig, the whole vehicle starts to shake beneath him. He thinks they might’ve been hit, but then a man in a ratty, white t-shirt and a bright red bandana wrapped around his upper arm climbs out of the window and onto the barrel and Castiel thinks it might just be a maintenance issue. He doesn’t know much about cars, but it feels like they must be dragging something.

The man doesn’t notice him at first, but then they make eye contact and he freezes. 

It takes Castiel a full 10 seconds to recognize him without the muzzle. 

He is devastatingly handsome, but that’s not exactly something worth worrying about when the world is dying. 

“Perhaps I’m not the only one who would take the muzzle off your face.”

The man grunts in response, more amused than irritated. He walks carefully toward Cas and seems to be completely unaware of the gunshots behind him.

Castiel has to maneuver out of his way for him to pass, but he keeps his eyes trained on the man’s face the entire time. He knows he’s studying him too closely, staring too much, but he’s been in the desert for too long to have any kind of social graces.

Whatever the man does on the back of the war rig, it immediately makes it drive smoother. If Castiel thought he would get an answer out of the man, he would ask what the problem was.

Instead, he stands silently as the man passes by him again. He will watch where the man gets back inside the cab so he can follow after a few seconds.

The man never gets back inside the cab. 

A car pulls up next to them, a big black thing that looks like a relic from a time long gone. It’s been modified, but not nearly enough to blend in with the ridiculous contraptions of the desert.

 _“That’s my car!”_ the man booms, and Castiel is shocked at the volume of his voice.

The war boys in the black car shout and bang on the hood. They don’t even notice at first when the man pulls out a gun and begins firing. He hits one of the boys right between the eyes, and Castiel feels nothing. He knows most of the war boys by name, and he feels nothing.

A flaming spear lodges in the barrel of the rig and explodes. The man doesn’t even flinch. Cas tries to hide on the ladder, but then the man is throwing a shotgun to him and commanding him to shoot.

It’s only then that Cas realizes the bullet farmers have arrived, too. He had almost forgotten about them, and now he is blindly shooting toward them and hoping for the best. He hates guns.

“Switch!” the man yells at some point, and suddenly Cas is being shoved toward the front of the rig and slicing through a man’s chest with a machete. When did he get a machete?

He hears the unmistakable sound of a chainsaw behind him and turns just in time to duck out of the way and kick the man into the sand, chainsaw still buzzing.

He and the muzzled man stand back-to-back and fend off everyone who climbs onto the rig.  

“On your left,” the man says while holding a knife over his shoulder for Cas to take. 

As soon as the knife is in his hand, Cas turns to his left and stabs a flamer through the heart. 

And so it goes. For minutes, hours, days, it would be impossible to tell were it not for the sun high in the sky. Castiel and the man fall into such an easy rhythm that it feels like they are invincible. That is, until a lance flies so close to Castiel that he is forced to stumble out of the way. He slips and starts to fall, but a hand catches him against the side of the barrel.

He looks up into the eyes of the muzzled man and finds fear there. There’s something else, something rarely seen in the desert. Castiel thinks it might be determination.

The man grits his teeth and hauls Castiel back up. They collapse together for just a moment before they’re forced back into the fight. 

Castiel isn’t sure exactly how it happens, but one moment they are fighting for their lives and the next moment everything is silent. He thinks the war rig must’ve taken a turn somewhere and left everybody else in the throes of enemy territory, but there’s no way to be sure. He dazedly searches around and is surprised to see that they are still on the outskirts of the Bullet Farm. It must be a much larger territory than the Citadel. 

Pumped full of adrenaline, Castiel turns toward the man and wraps his arms around him. The man grunts and tenses but does nothing to try to pull away.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Cas whispers into his ear before letting him go.

The man avoids eye contact and scratches his hair as he steps back a few paces. The war rig has slowed significantly, so Cas turns to see where they’re heading.

The mouth of an ugly, jagged, red cave opens before them, and they are enveloped in darkness as they drive through.

“This is gonna end well,” the man mumbles, and then he cocks his gun.

Castiel huffs a laugh and tries not to panic.

They go deep into the cave, traveling so far that Cas’ eyes adjust enough to see the red walls that lined the cavern. They are much wetter than the walls in the Citadel’s cavern, and Castiel absurdly feels jealous.

Eventually the rig comes to a stop. A woman’s voice shouts from far off, making a sort of battle cry that echoes off the walls for several seconds.

A door slams shut as someone exits the cab. Cas strains his eyes but can only make out a shadow of a figure.

Another female voice, much closer, shouts down the cavern, “We come in peace. Show yourselves.”

Light fills the cavern, and Cas has to shut his eyes against it. When he opens them, there are several figures standing in front of the war rig.

One of them he recognizes as Donna, who appears to be unharmed. Next to her is a tall man with hair so long it reaches past his shoulders. A free man, then. To his right is Billie, which is unsurprising. If any of the Immortan’s wives could find her way to the war rig on her own, it would be Billie. The fourth figure is the Imperator. Castiel doesn’t know her very well, but he knows her mechanical arm well enough to recognize her from behind. Meg had been the one to design it, but the two of them built it together.

Three other people stand across from them. 

They are wearing the white linens indicative of involuntary wives, and they are each no older than 17.

The Bullet Farmer’s wives. The young ones.

 

* * *

 

Dean feels his gut turn into knots when the girls walk up to them. On autopilot, he slides down the side of the barrel and lands lightly on his feet. He doesn’t check to see if the doctor is behind him, but he hears a distinct _thump_ on the opposite side of the cave and thinks he must’ve followed his lead.

“Don’t worry, they’re reliable,” the Imperator says to the girls as Dean walks up and stands next to Donna.

He nods solemnly at the girls. The blonde one maintains eye contact with him for too long. 

“Cas!” Donna shouts, making everyone turn toward the doctor.

“Um, hello,” the doctor answers awkwardly. “Imperator Mills, I—”

“No need to explain, Cas. Although your methods for keeping track of blood bags is questionable.” She looks pointedly at Dean, then Sam. “The tall one didn’t even make it to the medical ward.”

Sam flashes a smile, and Dean looks away. Whenever Sam smiles, it makes Dean hope. He can't afford hope. 

“Your war boys weren’t exactly strong enough to haul me in. I might’ve…hijacked the war rig,” Sam explains.

Dean feels a pang of guilt despite the fact that he had been knocked unconscious. He could’ve been captured by a group of little old full life ladies and still not escaped.

“They lied to me then,” Cas explains bitterly, staring down at the sand. “They claimed to only find and tag one full life that day.”

“Yeah, I, uh, barely even made it to the Citadel before shaking them.”

“Alright, this is great and all, but can we get back to the task at hand?” the blonde girl asks impatiently. She crosses her arms over her chest and stares at the Imperator. 

Mills doesn’t miss a beat. “We put a dent in the war party. They should be moving well past us now, so we should hole up here for the night and regroup in the morning." 

“What about the rest of our sisters?” Billie asks with an edge to her tone. Of course, there always seems to be an edge to Billie’s tone. She scares the shit out of Dean. “Blood bag claims he saw a redhead in the trunk of a car, so either Charlie or Anna is—”

“It was Anna,” Cas interrupts. “I saw her at the Citadel.”

Billie sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “Great, so Anna’s the only one we’ve seen in the past 24 hours. Perfect.” 

“Look, can you guys get us the fuck out of here or not?” one of the young girls asks, even more impatiently than the blonde.

“What was your name again, kid? Krissy? Listen, Krissy—actually, all three of you listen—you want to survive out here, you do as I say,” the Imperator says sternly.

The three girls suddenly get shy as they nod their heads in unison.

“Good,” Mills continues. “Everybody get some rest. We’re heading out at first light.”

The group disperses awkwardly, and Dean ends up standing in his spot for too long. The blonde girl keeps staring at him, so he instinctively asks, “What?”

“Are you one of the Immortan’s wives?” she asks seriously.

He furrows his brow at her. 

“You’re awfully pretty for the desert.”

He grunts back at her.

“But a Neanderthal I guess. I’m Claire.”

He doesn’t know what a Neanderthal is, so he says, “Dean.”

Claire puffs out her arms and says in a gruff voice, “Me Dean, you Claire.” She then grunts several times.

“Dean?” 

Dean turns to find the doctor walking up to them, a curious look on his face.

“Your name is Dean?” he continues.

Dean nods once.

The doctor looks at Claire. “How did you get him to tell you his name?” 

“Um, I told him mine?” She does the funny voice again as she says, “Me Claire, him Dean.”

“She also didn’t put me in a cage,” Dean blurts out, leveling Cas with a stare.

“Oooh, this is good,” Claire comments.

Weirdly, the doctor’s face softens. “I’m sorry.” 

“No you ain’t.”

“No, I’m not. I have a job to do, and if I felt bad about every man I’ve killed then the next person I’d kill would be myself.” He makes a face as if it’s not the first time he’s considered the option.

“Well, this is awkward,” Claire chimes in. “I’m gonna go hang out with Alex.”

“Wait,” Dean says, turning toward her. “The Bullet Farmer. Does he...?”

“Yes, he does.”

“Do you have any children?” the doctor asks pointblank. 

She grimaces and then smiles. “Krissy has had two miscarriages, and I’ve had one. _Accidental_ miscarriages of course.” She winks and stalks off.

Dean and Cas stand together in silence for several seconds, trying to take in what they just learned. Eventually, the doctor sighs and walks back to the war rig. For some reason, Dean follows.

Cas is surprised to see him when he takes a seat against the front wheel well, but then he scoots over so Dean has room to sit.

“I enjoyed fighting with you,” Cas says blandly.

Dean grunts his agreement.

Cas opens his mouth to say more, but Sam appears with a bright smile and says, “Hey, Dean, you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Sam’s eyes deliberately flicker to Cas and then back to Dean. “Who’s your friend?” 

“I wouldn’t exactly call us friends,” Cas answers seriously. 

“Sam, this is Cas. Cas, Sam.”

Sam holds his hand out, and Cas just stares at it.

“You have no idea what a handshake is,” Sam says with a laugh as he lets his hand drop. “It’s nice to meet you, Cas.”

“Sam’s my brother,” Dean explains.

“Ah. I see.”

Cas peers at Sam curiously.

“Well, uh, I’m gonna help Mills cool the engines,” Sam says. “And Dean—we’re gonna find Anna, OK?”

Dean clenches his jaw and nods, and Sam walks off.

“Why do you care about finding Anna?”

“You have no concept of social cues, do you, Cas?”

Cas tilts his head and squints at him. “You hardly even speak at all.”

Dean’s first reaction is to argue, but there's no use. The desert has stolen his voice. “I couldn’t protect the girl. If she’s dead, then…”

“You would take responsibility.”

“Mm.” 

“Rest assured, I’ve known these women for a very long time and have never been able to protect them.”

As if on cue, Donna appears with a crying baby in her arms. “Could you help me here, boss?” she asks Cas, sounding stressed out.

Cas immediately hops to his feet and takes the baby. He and Donna then disappear, presumably to find a more sanitary place to care for the child. 

Once again, Dean feels compelled to follow. This time, he doesn't listen to the impulse. 

Only about 10 minutes pass before Cas returns, but Dean is starting to nod off. Cas sits closer this time and wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulders to pull him to his side. If Dean were more awake, he would protest.

“The temperature has dropped significantly. We’ll be warmer if we sleep together,” Cas explains.

Dean feels his cheeks heat up at the phrase “sleep together,” but he’s sure Cas doesn’t even know the implication. In the desert, there are no terms for “sex” besides “rape.”

“Dean? Are you OK?” Cas grumbles against his ear, and the low pitch of his voice reverberates through Dean’s whole body. 

“Mm,” Dean responds, curling closer against his side.

Cas clasps his arms together around Dean, enveloping him in warmth. If it weren’t so damn comfortable, Dean would be embarrassed. As he falls asleep, he hears footsteps and whispers around him and wonders if any of the women or Sam are wondering what Dean and Cas are doing.

He decides that if anyone asks him about it in the morning, he’ll respond with a grunt.

 

* * *

 

The rolling of tires behind him wakes Castiel up. He and Dean have fallen into a heap in the sand, and the war rig could very easily run over them if Mills turns the wheel.

“Dean. Dean, wake up,” Cas commands as he shakes Dean’s shoulders.

Dean wakes with a start and looks around as if preparing for a fight. Cas pulls him to his feet, and the two of them hop onto the side of the rig as it backs up out of the cave.

“I guess we’re leaving,” a familiar voice says from above them.

Cas looks up to find Kevin sitting in the crow’s nest.

“I thought he was dead,” Dean mumbles as he hauls himself up on top of the barrel.

"Kevin?" Cas asks as he follows Dean. "Where's Ash? Did he...?"

Kevin hangs his head.

"Oh," Cas says lamely.

The desert is too quiet when they emerge from the cave. Cas and Dean sit atop the barrel with guns in their laps, but the fight never comes. Eventually Cas makes his way down to the cab to sit with the rest of their party.

“It’s too quiet,” he says as he slides into the backseat next to Donna.

“There are eyes on us,” Mills answers ominously from the passenger seat. “They know where we’re going.”

“And where exactly are we—”

“The Green Place,” several voices answer at once.

“I don’t under—”

“I’ve been planning to take the young ones for a long time,” the Imperator explains. "I figured having my war rig nearly stolen from me was a good enough reason to attempt the journey.”

Cas makes eye contact with Donna and then Billie before asking, “And what about Lucifer's wives?”

“I can only help so many women at a time, Castiel.”

After a long stretch of silence, Cas states, “Kevin is here. And alive.”

“Yeah, Alex is with him in the crow’s nest,” Claire explains. “She found him last night while you and Dean were snuggling.”

Donna stifles a laugh, and her baby coos in her arms.

“We were huddled together for warmth.” 

“Alright, I can’t deal with this,” Billie says blandly as she climbs up through the roof and disappears.

Everyone is silent for several seconds.

From the driver’s seat, Sam says, “Dean likes you, Cas. He never warms up to people so fast. Whatever you did, it worked.”

“I deceived him and put him in a cage and strapped him to the front of a car and took his blood.”

Nobody says anything after that.

A distant sound draws their attention a few minutes later. Sam hands the wheel over to the Imperator so he can see what’s going on. As he disappears through the roof, he mumbles something about being more useful fighting next to Dean.

“Motorcycles,” Mills says.

“We have them at the Bullet Farm,” Claire confirms. “Immortan Luc has access to them. He probably gave them to his war boys.”

“Did we kill all of the farmers already?” Cas asks.

Claire rounds on him. “They won't fight today unless they figure out we're gone.”

Almost as soon as the words are out of her mouth, two flares fire from the center of the Bullet Farm.

“And it looks like they just found out,” Claire says with a sarcastic tone. She picks a shotgun up off the floor and starts loading it. 

Mills starts, “Hold on, I don’t want you fighting. You have to stay—”

Claire disappears through the roof.

The war boys are much easier to kill on motorcycles.

Castiel stays in the cab during the fighting, firing pistols off left and right and protecting the Imperator while she drives. Everyone joins in the fighting save Donna and her baby, who are carefully tucked away in the compartment beneath the backseat. Krissy is a much better shot than Cas, and she climbs her way around the outside of the cab like she’s been doing it all her life. Several times he thinks her bare feet are going to slip and she'll fall into the sand, but she never does. _She’s worth 20 war boys,_ he thinks to himself.

At one point a wounded war boy falls through the roof of the cab and puts a knife to Cas’ throat, calling him a dirty traitor, but he is snatched up and tossed into the sand like it’s nothing.

“You alright, Cas?” Dean asks gruffly from above him.

Cas looks up at him and nods. 

Dean nods back and continues fighting.

Three motorcycles pull up on their left. Strangely, one of them has two war boys together on it. Not only that, but they are wearing makeshift helmets. He only has a moment to wonder where they got them before an arrow flies past his head and exits through the opposite window.

He points his gun at the archer but before he can shoot, the helmeted war boys crash into the motorcycle and manage to stay upright as they pull away from the wreckage.

If Castiel didn’t know any better, he would say it was done on purpose.

Two men climb in through the passenger side windows. Krissy stabs one of them in the eyes with her fingers. The other comes at Cas, and he leans back and thrusts the heel of his boot into his face. He recognizes the man but can't remember his name.

Castiel hears a thump to his left and turns in time to see one of the helmeted war boys flying boot first through the backseat window. Cas pulls out his knife with the intent to kill, but the war boy shouts and pulls off his helmet.

 _“Jo?”_ Cas shouts back. 

“Yeah, yeah, hey!” she answers frantically, waving her hands in a placating gesture. “The jig is up, give me a goddamn gun!”

Castiel hands over a pistol and stares at her in shock. She’s wearing the thick cargo pants and black jacket symbolic of a war boy’s uniform, and her white linens are wrapped so tightly around her chest that her breasts are nonexistent. Her blonde hair has been lopped off, locks of it interspersed among her baldness. Her lip has been busted open and poorly taken care of, but she’ll survive.

“Was that—”

“Charlie driving the motorcycle, yeah,” she answers as she aims her gun out the window. “We weren’t subtle enough, the war boys know we’re not on their side.”

“Do they know you’re—” 

“No. They probably think we’re free men. Listen, we have to get Charlie in here. I can’t…” Her voice trails off.

“I know. I understand. We’ll get her.”

“Where is she, Jo?” Mills asks sternly.

“She’s the only one in a helmet. Oh and she’s missing a shoe." 

“How did you guys get here?” Krissy asks even as she shoves her knife through a man’s gut and pushes him out of the cab.  

“We knocked out some empty war boys way back at the Citadel. Took their clothes, sheared our heads, stole their car. Things got trickier when we got to the Bullet Farm, but hey, we’re both still alive. Sorry, who are you?”

Cas smiles at her, hearing so much of Charlie in the way she speaks. He admires how fiercely they love each other despite everything they’ve been through.

“Jo, do you know where the other—”

“No, I don’t. Haven’t seen anyone since we split up at the Citadel. What about you guys?”

“Donna and Billie are safe,” Cas responds.

 _“Donna?_ You mean because she’s back at the Citadel safely tucked away with her kid, right?”

Castiel regretfully shakes his head.

Jo closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She then turns toward the window and violently shoots four motorcyclists in a row. 

A moment later, Dean’s head pops through the roof and Jo punches him in the face before Cas can stop her.

“You must be Jo,” Dean says with fake enthusiasm. 

 _Ah, so he has a sense of humor,_ Cas thinks.

“Your girlfriend’s up here, and she needs a gun.”

 _“What?”_ Jo exclaims as she shoves herself up through the roof with guns in hand.

Cas laughs to himself as he shoots a war boy between the eyes. 

Sam is the next one to pop in through the roof. He maneuvers his way over to Mills and asks if she needs him to take over driving. She shakes her head and holds out her human hand, and he places a knife in it.

Castiel peers at them curiously, wondering how much war they must’ve endured over the past couple of days in order to develop this silent system of communication. Whatever circumstances brought them together, they've built a kind of trust and camaraderie that Castiel supposes can only occur during war.

“On our left!” Mills announces as she honks the horn.

In a matter of seconds, a group of trucks pulls up beside them. There are people in the beds of them, but they aren’t war boys. They look much stronger despite the fact that they’re wearing plastic masks painted in outrageous colors with pronounced smiling faces and big, red noses.

“Fucking clowns, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Sam mutters.

Castiel wonders what a “clown” is.

Sam is a relentless killer with no concern for wasting bullets. Whatever the men in the trucks are, Sam seems to have a personal vendetta against them.

A fiery lance lodges in the front left wheel well and threatens to destroy two of their tires. Before Mills can even give a command, Sam crawls out to the hood of the war rig and works the lance out with his bare hands. It's on fire, and yet Sam appears to be completely unaffected.

That is, until he tries to come around the side of the war rig and slips. The Imperator catches him by the boot with her mechanical arm and screams in pain as she tries to hold his weight. He must outweigh her by at least three stone. 

Castiel stares blankly at the man as he hangs upside down right above the sand but he snaps out of it when he sees a masked man in his peripheral vision. He turns to slit the man’s throat just before he can stab the Imperator. Mills gives Castiel a thankful look. 

Dean flies in through the roof then and reaches out the backseat window to help haul Sam in. Castiel feels shame as he realizes that’s how _he_ should’ve reacted. Once Sam is right side up and hanging onto the side of the war rig, he jumps away from it in a hurry. Castiel panics and pushes past Dean to look out the window.

Sam waves and gives a thumbs up from the small car he’s driving. The masked man sitting in the passenger seat is missing his head.

Dean laughs softly to himself. Cas turns toward him just in time to see a smile on his face. He must stare for too long, because Dean makes eye contact with him and tries to move.

“Uh, Cas? Personal space,” Dean says awkwardly as he scoots away from the window.

Castiel clears his throat and moves away from him. 

For a moment, everything slows down. Their attackers back off, and everyone in the cab reloads their weapons and catches their breath. 

“Not a good sign,” Dean mumbles. 

Cas wants to ask what he means, but the question is answered before he gets the chance to voice it. Imperator Mills cranks the wheel and the war rig slams into something on their left. Dean turns away from the window and shields himself against Cas’ side as debris from the wreckage pours into the cab.

“What in Valhalla was that?” Krissy yells from the passenger seat.

“Bullet Farmer’s posse,” Mills responds as she stares into her makeshift rearview mirror. “Polecats aren’t far behind. I need—”

A woman drops through the roof and lands between Dean and Cas. “Hate to interrupt this chat, but I think the more pressing issue is the Immortan on your heels.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Dean asks.

“Bela the Splendid.” Bela flashes Dean a grin and hikes up her linens to pull a knife out of the thigh holster she stole from the Immortan several hundred days past. “Now. Let’s kill a warlord, shall we?”

 

* * *

 

It’s not the first time Dean’s seen a warlord, but he is surprised to find one willing to get his hands dirty. Most of them sit on their asses and watch as their men die in vain.

Immortan Luc is a whole different animal.

His car is at least three cars mashed together in an ugly chrome mess, but it looks shiny and new as if it’s never been driven before. There are several full-life men flanking him as he drives, and they all have stoic faces as if they’re dead inside. Well, even more dead than the rest of the sorry suckers still alive in the desert.

The Immortan pulls up right next to the war rig and aims his pistol at the Imperator’s head. Krissy gets a shot off before he does, but he swerves so it misses him. When he swerves back, he purposely slams his car into the side of the rig. The cab shakes, and Bela the Splendid curses.

The Immortan aims the gun again, so Dean instinctively throws himself into the line of fire. He’s pretty sure the bullet lodges just above the arrow wound in his arm. He doesn’t have time to worry about the pain before the Immortan aims again.

The next several seconds are a hallucinatory blur, and suddenly Dean is the one driving the rig and he has no idea how that happened. The Imperator holds the biggest gun they have in their arsenal, picking off each of the Immortan’s men with ease. Unfortunately, when one falls a new one replaces him. Dean wonders where the fuck Luc got so many full lifes.

“Out of the way!” Bela commands. 

She opens the back door and spreads her body out in the open for the Immortan to see. 

The firing ceases. The Immortan’s voice carries over the roar of the engines.

“Splendid!” he chastises. “Belladonna, get out of the way!”

Bela presents her pregnant belly and spits toward the Immortan’s car with a smile. 

And so it goes for the next several minutes. Whenever Immortan Luc tries to get a new angle on them to kill the Imperator, Bela simply opens the door and acts as a human shield.

“Full life, you see that rock over there?” Bela asks Dean, pointing ahead and to their right. 

Dean grunts in the affirmative. Bela commands him to head toward it. 

“Bela, what are you—”

“Do you want to get rid of him or not, Mills?” Bela fires back.

The Imperator doesn’t say anything as Bela climbs over to the right side of the cab and hangs out the door.

“OK, full life, get as close as you can.” Bela’s voice doesn’t falter, but she sounds less sure the closer they get. “When I say ‘now,’ pull to the left as fast as you can. Understand?”

“Yeah,” Dean confirms. He grips the wheel harder and shakes away a ghost vying for his attention.

Suddenly, a tattooed hand covers his own, and he turns to find Cas’ face right next to his. He's close enough for Dean to notice the scar in his eyebrow, the Immortan's brand on the side of his neck, the pointy ring through his bottom lip. 

“You’re OK, Dean,” Cas says softly. 

Dean immediately relaxes and allows Cas to help him guide the wheel.

 _“Now!”_ Bela shouts, and Cas and Dean both jerk the wheel to the left.

The rig grazes the rock, and Bela disappears. 

Immortan Luc’s car smashes into the rock and flips several times.

Dean stares into the rearview mirror as he continues to drive. 

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” he whispers to himself until finally Bela crawls her way back up. Krissy and the Imperator haul her into the backseat.

“Well, that was fun,” she says through heavy breaths. 

“Bela, you’re bleeding,” Cas says seriously as he leaves Dean’s side.

Dean adjusts the mirror so he can see the dark red spot growing along Bela’s protruding abdomen. 

“I believe it’s safe to say the baby warlord isn’t going to make it,” Bela jokes with a humorless laugh and a hitch in her breath.

Dean focuses back on the road and listens to the sound of tape being pulled, cloth being ripped, Cas muttering reassurances to Bela as he takes care of her.

“So. What have you all been up to?” Bela asks casually despite the obvious strain in her voice. When no one answers, she continues, “Come on now, distract me.”

“We’ve been, um, fighting,” Cas responds awkwardly.

“What about _you?”_ Krissy asks without turning toward Bela. There are still motorcyclists flanking them, but Krissy just keeps picking them off one by one. 

“At a spa in Reno,” Bela replies with a sharp laugh.

Cas asks, “What’s Reno?” at the same time Krissy asks, “What’s a spa?”

Bela laughs again and says, “I was hiding in a trunk, but the lancer found me and tried to toss me off to Lucifer. I certainly wasn’t going to let _that_ happen, so I killed the lancer and the driver and stole the car. Should’ve stolen their clothes, too, but I can blame pregnancy hormones for the forgetfulness. I got caught several kilometers back and escaped via polecat. That’s how I came to land through your roof.”

Bela’s feet slide up between the seats and rest against the gearshift. Dean briefly looks down and sees that they’re dark with blood and dirt. He has the insane thought that he should’ve given the redhead—Anna—his own shoes before they were separated.

“You’re bleeding,” Bela states, and it takes several seconds of silence for Dean to realize she’s talking to him.

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah,” Dean replies intelligently as he turns his arm over and notices the bullet wound. “It’s nothing.”

Cas’ hands are on his arm in a second. Dean clenches his jaw. He keeps his eyes on the nonexistent path ahead of them and tries to ignore the gentle way in which Cas tends to his wound.

“Interesting,” Cas mutters as he holds the bloody bullet between his fingers.

“What?” Dean asks, looking at the bullet.

“You’ve been shot, and yet you’re bleeding as if it’s just a small cut. How is that possible?”

Dean grunts and licks his lips. “I, uh, don’t know. Always been like that.”

He can feel everyone’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t provide any further information. He’s been cut and stabbed and shot and broken too many times to care that he doesn’t bleed and bruise like regular men. Sam is the same. 

Bela drifts in and out of consciousness, so Cas takes her to the compartment below. The Imperator goes back to the driver’s seat, and Dean climbs up through the roof to join his brother once again.

By the time the fighting ends, Dean is bone tired. He can hardly stand on his own, much less fire a gun or slice a man’s throat.

But there are no more men, and so the war rig comes to a halt alone in the pitch black of night. 

A light shines from behind, where Kevin, Alex and Claire are huddled together in the crow’s nest. They seem to be laughing at something. Dean commits the rare image to memory. Below them sit Billie, Charlie and Jo, Jo’s arms wrapped protectively around Charlie as she sleeps. Jo waves and nods at Dean in some kind of solidarity. He nods back.

“It’s day 9,012,” Sam announces as he takes a seat next to Dean on top of the barrel.

“Mm.”

“Mom would be proud of us for making it this long.”

“Should we tell them?" 

Sam turns his head, and even in the dark Dean knows the expression on his face. “They’ll figure it out eventually.” 

“And then what?” 

Sam sighs.

Dean closes his eyes and lies back against the cold, newly blood-stained metal beneath him.

 

* * *

 

Bela’s hand grows cold as it clasps Castiel’s. The fact that Bela is even willing to grip Cas’ hand is sign enough that she is not OK.

“Dean was a blood bag, wasn’t he?” Donna asks for the third time in the past two hours. 

Cas has been awake too long to stop himself from answering this time. “Yes, he was.”

“Was he a universal donor?” Donna presses. 

Cas looks at her, but she averts her gaze and stares down at her son. “Yes, he is.” 

“You could ask him. It wouldn’t hurt to ask him.”

Bela wheezes and sighs in her sleep. A new spot of blood blooms on her lower abdomen.

It’s been hours since Cas extracted the fetus and discarded the remains, but Bela is bleeding from so many different places that he can’t possibly keep up. He hasn’t even looked at the soles of her feet yet.

“Alright, that’s it,” Donna says determinedly as she scoops her baby onto her shoulder and pushes the door up.

Cas tries to protest, but he can’t leave Bela’s side. Donna disappears, and a second later he can hear her cheerfully asking Dean if he’d consider donating his blood just one more time.

Shockingly, Dean’s boots slide through the floor and into the compartment just moments later. He squeezes into the corner and gives Cas a curious look before turning his attention to Bela. 

“I don’t care if you take my blood.” He holds out his arm, the one without the bullet wound and whatever other wound is hidden under the red bandana. 

They have a staring contest that ends when Dean smirks. Cas, admitting defeat, rolls his eyes and pulls Dean’s arm forward.

“Where did Donna and her child go?” Cas asks blankly, his attention focused on the transfusion. 

“They’re sitting with Sam on top of the rig.”

Dean makes no complaint as the blood pumps out of him. Castiel wonders if the man can even feel pain. He decides not to ask.

They end up in another staring contest. This one ends when Dean’s eyes flicker down to Cas’ mouth. Cas chalks it up to the ring in his lip being distracting. 

“Have you ever been to the Green Place, Cas?”

“No.”

“Do you believe…?”

“Do I believe it exists?” Cas sighs and looks down at Bela. “No.”

 

* * *

 

Bela the Splendid wakes up by first light. She changes into a new set of linens and does not bleed anymore.

Dean insisted that Bela not know who provided the blood. He doesn’t want her thinking she’s in his debt. She terrifies him.

There is a scream in the distance, and everyone emerges onto the sand to follow it. They stop when they spot Imperator Mills several paces off, down on her knees with her head bowed at the foot of a small tree with bright green leaves.

Nobody moves toward her, so Dean takes it upon himself to do so.

The sand is hot against his ass when he sits, but kneeling seems reserved for the Imperator. There are no tears in her eyes, but she sniffles as if there are. 

“When, uh, I was a kid,” Dean starts, scratching the back of his head before pointing all around, “This whole area was full of trees. I used to climb them.”

The Imperator looks up at him sharply, her mouth dropping open slightly. It seems as if she’s seeing him for the first time.

“Your mom used to yell at me for climbing her trees. You were already gone, but, uh…she talked about you.” 

Dean waits for a response and receives none, so he continues, “The water spoiled, drought hit. Your mom and my mom—they were two of the last to die. Sam and I—”

“None of the other mothers survived?” Mills whispers, her voice thick with grief.

“No. Many of the children were taken, but Sam and I escaped. It’s been 9,000 days.”

The Imperator closes her eyes and bows her head once more. Dean feels the urge to comfort her, but he chooses not to act on it. After a few more silent minutes, she stands and walks back to the war rig.

Everyone is waiting for them when they get back, expectant but not hopeful. 

“There is no Green Place anymore,” Mills announces with no inflection in her voice. “We can keep heading east, see what we find.”

“Or we could go back,” Sam says quickly. Everyone turns their attention on him as he continues, “We don’t even know if the Immortan’s still alive. At least half of his war boys are dead—and even more of his full lifes. The Citadel’s unguarded.” 

Nobody says anything for a while, but they all exchange wary looks with one another. Finally, the Imperator speaks.

“We’d have to go back the same way we came. Some of us may not make it.”

A muffled voice shouts from inside the cab, “I’m dying anyway! Might as well count for something.” 

“I guess Bela’s awake,” Cas says casually as he heads back toward the cab.

In the end, it’s Bela who convinces them. She knows how the Immortan fights and what his weaknesses are, and she knows the Citadel better than anyone. She’s also Immortan Luc’s favorite, which makes her valuable.

“Plus,” she adds after talking herself tired, “We don’t know Anna and Eileen’s fates. It would be nice not to abandon them.” 

The first two hours are eerily quiet. Sam, Dean and Billie sit on top of the war rig, Kevin and Claire in the crow’s nest, and everybody else stuffed in the cab or the compartment underneath. Sam sharpens a knife, and Dean becomes hyper-focused on the sound of it. 

“So. When this is all over…” Sam trails off, just like he always does. 

“I don’t know.”

The sound stops. “Really?”

Dean looks at him, challenging him. “What?”

Sam looks back down at his knife and begins sharpening again. “Nothing. It’s just always the same. We move on. That’s what we’ve always done.” 

“Yeah.”

“We’ll find the girl. Anna. We’ll find her, Dean.”

Dean hadn’t even been thinking of her. His mind was at the Citadel, where he saw more green than he’s seen in 9,000 days. Where there’s clean water. Where these people he hardly knows live and suffer under the thumb of a cruel man.

Where they might not have to anymore.

The first war party to meet them is the Bullet Farmer’s. Unlike Immortan Luc, the Bullet Farmer is unthreatening and doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. They can tell which car is his only by its size and the amount of people in it, not because he’s actually visible inside it.

While Sam and Billie fire their guns at the lancers on the back of the car, Dean hurls himself onto the hood and punches through the windshield to grab the driver by the throat. The man in the passenger seat is so shocked by the shattering of glass that Dean kills him with a shard of it before he even knows what’s going on.

The car careens and slams into the side of the war rig, so Dean shoves the dead driver out the door and takes the wheel. There’s a metal partition between the front and backseat, and a loud _thump_ hits it while Dean drives. Billie tries to leap from the barrel to the car, but Dean points her in the opposite direction where the men from the Gas Town are pulling up fast. He shouts at her to get Charlie and Jo out of the cab to help. 

There are a few more horrifying noises before the partition breaks and Sam climbs into the passenger seat.

“Dude, what the fuck are you—” 

A girl slides in next to Sam, and Dean is stopped short. She wears a stone-cold expression, knife gripped tightly in her lap, blood spattered on her hands and face.

“Dean, this is Eileen,” Sam says casually. “She, uh, just cut the Bullet Farmer’s throat.”

 

* * *

 

“Who was that man who gave me his blood? The handsome one, where did he come from?” Bela asks casually, as if directly above them people they know aren’t fighting and dying.

“Um. The war boys captured him and his brother during a raid. They were in the Immortan’s territory.” 

“Alone?”

Cas nods. “They had a car.”

“For a blood bag, Dean sure has warmed up to you, hmm?”

Cas doesn’t answer. He’s holding Donna’s baby so she can fight next to the Imperator—they secretly train together back at the Citadel—and so it’s easy to ignore Bela in favor of the child.

“You know, I always thought there was something between you and that Meg girl, but now I’m wondering—”

“Meg kissed me once. I didn’t know what kissing was, so she kissed me.”

“OK. Not the point, Doctor, but now I have so many more questions. Your gaps in knowledge are such a curious thing.”

Again, he offers nothing.

“You’re a doctor, so you must know what sex is. Valhalla knows you’ve delivered enough babies. But if you’ve never been kissed, then I imagine you’ve never…”

“I said I _have_ been kissed.”

 _“Not the point,_ Castiel. I’m asking if you’ve ever…joined the war boys in their extracurricular activities with one another.” 

“I don’t—”

“Do you have sex with men, Castiel?”

He frowns at her.

She sighs and rolls her head back until it hits the wall of the compartment. “When this is all over, I’m going to sit you and Dean down and teach you both how to kiss.”

“I know how to kiss—” 

_“Cas.”_

Someone above them screams, and Bela and Cas stare at each other with wide eyes. They know they can’t help, which is terrifying. Another person screams, and then a third person shouts a name. 

Anna.

  

* * *

 

Eileen can’t hear, and Sam seems to think it’s hilarious.

Well, hilarious that Dean can’t just grunt every response like he usually does.

“I was looking for the young ones once I got to the Bullet Farm,” she explains as they drive and run over polecats. “He found me first. He was very annoying, kept shouting at me as if that would make me capable of hearing him. Ugly smile, too. Even though he has all of his teeth, it was still the ugliest smile I’ve ever seen. I don’t regret cutting his throat.” 

Sam laughs softly, affectionately—as if Eileen isn’t talking about slitting a guy’s throat. He then rips off a piece of his undershirt and uses it to wipe the blood from her hands.

Dean takes his eyes off the path ahead of them in order to give his brother a pointed look. Sam clenches his jaw and lowers his eyebrows in response. Dean rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

Something heavy lands on the back of the car, followed by the sound of a chainsaw. Eileen immediately heads for the window presumably because she felt the thump and wants to go fight the guy, but Sam grabs her by the arm and explains that he’s got a _chainsaw._

Eileen rolls her eyes and steals Sam’s gun out of its holster.

Something heavy falls off the back of the car, followed by the sound of a chainsaw dying. Eileen has more blood on her hands when she crawls back through the window.

Dean laughs quietly to himself, but his smile dies when an ugly pick-up truck with jacked-up wheels cuts them off. Dean slams on the brakes, and the truck slams into the side of the war rig.

Krissy and Jo stand on the barrel and shoot into the cab of the truck, making it swerve away from the rig. It comes back a moment later, but the girls are sure-footed. They hardly budge when the truck hits them again.

The back window of the truck slides open then, and someone screams. A person is shoved through the window and lands face first into the bed. Dean gets a glimpse of red hair and everything around him seems to come to a halt.

Immortan Luc crawls through the window and reaches down inside the bed. He comes back up with a fistful of red hair.

Krissy and Jo aren’t fast enough. They can’t get a shot off before the Immortan is completely protected by Anna’s body. They can’t shoot him without shooting her. Also, he has a knife to her throat.

Dean curses and hits the steering wheel so hard that the heel of his hand tingles with pain. He considers speeding up and ramming the back of the truck, but he doesn’t think his car’s got enough juice to even make the thing budge.

 _I wish I had my baby,_ he thinks bitterly, wondering where she’s been abandoned by war boys who wouldn’t know a good car from a pair of cargo pants. 

“Sammy, drive,” Dean commands as he surges forward and climbs through the broken windshield. 

Sam starts to protest, but it’s too late. Dean is on the hood of the car, and Anna has her eyes locked on him. The Immortan’s attention is still on Krissy and Jo, so Dean stupidly reaches his hand out for Anna to take.

She stares at him for a moment before very carefully stretching her arm out.

The Immortan jerks her back and turns his glare on Dean.

“You want her? Come get her,” he yells petulantly.

Dean keeps his eyes on Anna. He doesn’t really think the Immortan would kill her. The whole point of this war is that Lucifer doesn’t like when his property is taken from him. He sent his whole army after a goddamn war rig. Dean can’t imagine the lengths he’d go to for his breeders. And yet.

The Immortan’s eyes lift above Dean’s head, and his face changes into something like fear.

“Eileen!” he shouts. “Eileen, what are you doing?”

Dean doesn’t dare turn around, but he hears Eileen shout from the top of the car, “I’m sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you!”

Immortan Luc is just distracted enough by Eileen to loosen his grip on Anna. He pushes her to the side and takes a step forward, but then he comes to a sudden stop. His eyes go blank, and his mouth drops open.

Blood seeps into the middle of his plain gray shirt. He falls to his knees, revealing the Imperator behind him. She cleans her bloody knife against the front of her pants.

“No!” Eileen’s voice cries.

Dean turns to see if she’s OK.

But Eileen is looking past him, so Dean turns back around.

The gate on the truck has popped open, and Anna is hanging off the back of it by one hand. Her left foot is centimeters away from being torn off by the back wheel. When she tries to pull her other arm up it comes away bloody.

Dean dives onto his stomach, scoots up to the nose of the car, and yells back at Sam to get closer to the truck. He nearly slides off the front when Sam speeds up, but he catches himself just in time to get a hand on Anna’s back. 

“I got you, sweetheart,” he mutters even though he’s not sure if that's true. 

She slips, and he manages to wrap an arm around her waist. He feels blood trickle onto his arm and wonders where the fuck it’s coming from. 

The Imperator is taking care of the lackeys in the cab, and Dean is tempted to tell her to keep the driver alive so she can come help Anna. But Anna slips off the back of the truck before he gets the chance, and Dean slides down the hood of the car and nearly loses her.

He doesn’t know how he stays on. He doesn’t know how he doesn’t drop her or how she’s high enough off the ground not to drag her feet against it.

Eileen is there. Her small, bloody hands yank at Dean’s belt and pull him back until all three of them fall onto the hood of the car.

“Anna? Anna, are you OK?” Eileen asks as she tries to flip Anna over so she’s not on her stomach anymore.

When they finally get her over, Dean figures out where all the blood was coming from.

Along the right side of Anna’s neck is a gash the length of a finger. Eileen gasps and presses her hand to the blood pouring out of the wound. Dean turns back toward Sam and tells him to stop the goddamn car. As soon as they’re still, Dean hurls himself off the front and climbs into the bed of the truck.

Just as he suspected, the Imperator is driving it.

“He slit Anna’s throat.”

_“What?”_

“Anna. She’s alive but not for long. Get me to the rig so I can get Cas.”

“Cas is driving the rig.” 

Dean growls. The Imperator speeds up and angles the truck toward the driver’s side of the rig.

When they’re still about a meter off, Dean leaps and hangs onto the side of the cab. He pulls up to the window and grabs the front of Cas’ shirt. Cas aims his gun at him but immediately relaxes once he sees that it’s Dean. 

“Anna is dying. Stop the rig.”

Dean pulls the horn three times while Cas hits several kill switches before the rig finally comes to a stop. He shoves Dean out of the way and opens the driver’s side door, but he doesn’t make it out of the cab before the sound of a gun cocking stops him. 

“Take one more step and you’re dead, Doctor.”

The Immortan’s voice is calm and smooth, like he’s comforting a child instead of aiming a gun at a man’s head. He’s sitting in the passenger seat, the front of his shirt soaked in blood and the gaping hole in the middle of his chest pumping out more. He seems completely unaffected by it.

 _How did I not notice him in the truck,_ Dean wonders as he replays the scene in his head. 

“I want you to drive,” Immortan Luc continues. It doesn’t sound like a command, but it’s a command all the same. 

Castiel tentatively climbs back into the driver’s seat. Dean wants to turn and see where the Imperator is, but he fears drawing the Immortan’s attention. He doesn’t really want to get shot in the head by a guy with a hole in his chest.

The Immortan grows impatient as Cas goes through the series of switches. Dean watches the pattern carefully and doesn’t miss Cas hitting the second switch one time too many. The rig will only make it half a clip before stalling.

 _And then what’s he going to do,_ Dean thinks bitterly.

“Speed up,” the Immortan says irritably as the rig inches forward through the sand. “Come on, I said speed up!” His breath hitches, and he presses his free hand to the hole in his chest.

Dean slides back until his boot hits the side of the wheel well, and he finally caves and looks back. Just as he’s doing so, however, a loud slam of metal on metal brings his focus back onto the cab.

Bela the Splendid vaults herself out of the compartment and knocks the Immortan’s gun away with her foot. He fires it, but the bullet shoots through the roof and Cas steals the gun out of his hand.

“I sent plenty of your war boys to Valhalla already, so I know you’ll be in good company,” Bela says as she pulls the Immortan’s head back by his hair and slices deep all the way across his neck.

As blood pours down his front, Bela makes a disgusted face and tries to avoid getting her hands dirty as she opens the passenger door and shoves him out into the sand.

Cas and Dean stare at her. Donna emerges from the compartment with her baby and stares at her. 

Bela looks at all of them. “What?”

 

* * *

 

“Dean, find Alex!” Cas shouts as he runs over to Anna. He hopes they don’t have two dying girls on their hands, but hope is usually a mistake.

Anna and Eileen are on the hood of an unfamiliar car, Eileen’s hand pressed to the side of Anna’s neck and Sam hovering nearby as if waiting for instruction. Krissy, Claire and Kevin follow Cas, but he pushes them out of the way so he has more room to _think._

Just as he’s wondering where the Imperator is, she shouts at them from far off.

_“Cas! Need you! It’s Charlie!”_

“No, no, no, no,” Cas mutters as he moves Eileen’s hand away and realizes that he won’t be able to fix the wound quickly enough. “OK, you need to breathe, Anna. I’m going to make it so that you can breathe. I’m just going to—” 

Anna’s hand suddenly comes up and grips Cas’ wrist so hard it burns. She rolls her head to the side and looks up at him through glazed-over eyes. Her brow furrows, her mouth closes, and for the first time in his life Castiel understands another human being without needing them to spell it out for him.

Her grip loosens on his wrist. Her eyes close.

He lets go of her neck, and the blood spills out.

 

* * *

 

“I think I broke my fucking foot—ow—goddamn it,” Alex grumbles as Dean tries to help her up. “Just—get me away from— _that.”_  

The Immortan’s bloody, lifeless body is close enough to touch, so Dean scoops Alex up in his arms and runs back toward Anna and the rest of them. 

“Dean!”

He whips around to find the Imperator staring up at him. She’s crouched on the ground with Billie and Jo. Charlie is lying flat on her back in the middle of them, unmoving.

“Dean, get Cas,” Mills commands.

Dean nods and runs off. 

“My foot can wait,” Alex says blankly. “Just leave me with Krissy and Claire, and I’ll wait as long as I need to.”

Dean grunts in response.

Everyone is huddled together around the nose of the car. Dean knows what he’s going to find before he even sees it. Cas turns and looks up at him with pain in his eyes, and Dean’s grip on Alex tightens.

“She didn’t make it,” Dean states as he sets Alex down against the side of the car.

“No, she—”

The sound of an engine cuts them off. Everyone turns toward the noise, and a couple of people ready their guns.

As the motorcycle approaches, everyone relaxes. The driver pulls right up to their party and pushes the bike to the ground after she gets off it.

“Why the long faces?” she asks with a completely inappropriate grin.

“Meg,” Cas greets blandly. “Anna is dead.”

“Yeah, and Charlie might be next,” Dean says before Meg can respond.

“What?” several people ask at once.

“Cas, you need to get over there.” Dean points behind him. “Meg, you’re the other doctor, right? Her foot is broken.” He points at Alex.

“Who died and put you in charge?” Meg asks, raking her eyes up and down Dean’s body.

“A lot of people,” Dean answers sternly. He's pretty sure Meg's the one who muzzled him, and he doesn't have the patience to be kind to her. 

Dean follows Cas over to Charlie and stands behind him with his arms crossed as Cas takes care of her.

“Is she going to make it?” Jo asks, and the break in her voice makes Dean want to punch something.

“What happened to her?” Cas replies.

“She got—she, um—she—” 

“She was hit in the head by the butt of a chainsaw,” Mills provides. “She was knocked out.”

“OK. OK. Um. She might be in a coma. We need to get back to the Citadel.”

They waste no time. They take the war rig, the pick-up truck and the Bullet Farmer’s car and speed through the desert.

Anna keeps standing by the window, her linens elongated into a flowing white dress and her hair whipping back in the nonexistent wind. Dean always avoids making eye contact with ghosts.

He stares into her eyes. 

 

* * *

 

Back at the Citadel, the Imperator tosses Immortan Luc’s body into the sand, and the half lifes immediately jump on it and tear it apart. 

The lift pulls the war rig up. The cheers below and all around are deafening.

But it’s not the time to celebrate. Cas carries Charlie to the ward and spends the next two days tending to her without pause.

She wakes at dawn on the third day. Cas sits against the wall and watches quietly as Jo kisses her all over her face before settling on her lips.

Cas closes his eyes and tries to remember what it was like to kiss Meg.

Meg turns into Dean. Dean’s strong hands stroking Cas’ face and hair and holding the back of his neck. Dean’s mouth working against his, soft grunts and growls as Cas nips at his lips and forces his tongue into his mouth. Dean pushing him—

“Cas!”

He opens his eyes and looks up to find Jo staring down at him with wide eyes.

“Um, are you alright?” she asks.

“Yes. I’m fine. I’m—how’s Charlie?”

“She’s good. I was trying to ask you if we could go now. Miss Missouri said she’s got a place Charlie and I can live. Privately, like away from the other women.”

“That’s—that’s good. Yes. But—Charlie should stay here a little bit longer.”

“OK. Are you sure you’re OK? When was the last time you slept?”

“I…don’t know. Is Dean here?” 

“Dean? Why do you care about—oh. Never mind. Um. I don’t think he’s still here, but his brother might be. Rumor has it he and Eileen were up in the gardens earlier.”

“Thank you.” He considers going up to the gardens immediately, but then he remembers that he has to look after Charlie just a little longer. 

After just a few minutes, however, Meg shows up and tells him to “go get some fucking sleep.”

Cas sprints up hundreds of stairs and spots Sam and Eileen as soon as he steps out into the first garden. They are sitting close together in a patch of grass, smiling at each other and not really saying anything.

“Cas?” Sam asks as Cas approaches.

“Yes, hello, Sam. Eileen. Is your brother still here?”

“Oh. He, um, left before we were even taken up in the lift.”

"What? Without you?"

Sam looks at Eileen and then back at Cas. "We always manage to find each other."

"Where is he going?"

"Probably south. He took a motorcycle since his car's lost. What is it, Cas? Why do you care where my brother is?"

Cas nervously runs his tongue over his lip ring. "I..."

“What do you need, Cas?” 

Cas spins around to find Dean leaning against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest and his clothes much cleaner than they were two days ago.

“Um,” Cas says.

Dean cocks his head to the side and says, “C’mere.”

Cas can hear Sam stifle a laugh, but he ignores him. As he heads toward Dean, Dean starts walking down the path to the second garden. 

They walk for a long time without saying anything. Cas admires the gardens in a way he never has before and tries to remember what it was like to feel completely hopeless. He had been so broken just a handful of days ago, and now—now he sees green all around him.

Dean turns toward him suddenly, and they stand too close.  _Personal space,_ Cas thinks, but he doesn't move away. 

“Um,” Dean starts, scratching the back of his head. “I tried to leave. But my brother didn’t really want to leave, and I have no idea how to do anything without him, so. So, uh, I came back.”

“Oh,” Cas says lamely.

“But, uh, that wasn’t the only reason.” Dean reaches his hand forward as if he wants to touch Cas, but his arm falls as he aborts the movement. “Did Charlie wake up?” 

“Yes, she did.”

“And Alex—” 

“She will be able to walk in a number of days. Bela is still recovering as well, but she is tougher than most.”

“Yeah. Um.”

“Dean.”

Dean’s eyes shift up to Cas’. He stares at him in anticipation.

Cas smiles softly and presses two of his fingers to Dean’s lips. “I’m sorry you were muzzled."

Dean huffs a laugh and closes his eyes. He leans into the touch as if he’s starved for it.

So Cas leans forward and replaces his fingers with his lips. Dean hums and wraps an arm around Cas’ back, pulling him flush against his body.

“Stay,” Cas whispers against his mouth.

“OK."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I captured the Mad Max ~aesthetic~ of throwing you into a world you have no knowledge of and not really bothering to explain anything about it lmao. 
> 
> This was a prompt from [grandpamisha.](http://grandpamisha.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thanks to [Jessie](http://saywhatjessie.tumblr.com/) for beta reading this. 
> 
> Also, thanks to [Maddie](http://ozonecologne.tumblr.com/) for the amazing art!!!
> 
> I'm [deancasheadcanons](http://deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, and [this is my website.](https://maddmadeshop.com/)


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